


Did You Forget Love Was Dangerous?

by smaragdbird



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Brock Rumlow being protective of the Winter Soldier, Definitely not a fan of Alexander Pierce, Drugs, Gang Rape, M/M, Murder, or Gideon Malick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6546763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/pseuds/smaragdbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brock didn't want to be a bad guy. But when HYDRA slowly infiltrated SHIELD, Pierce noticed the promise in young Agent Brock Rumlow and took him "under his wing".<br/>He used him as a toy, and Brock, desperate to survive, did whatever it was that Pierce wanted. Pierce made him into a monster, and then handed him the Winter Soldier to use as a tool to eliminate Director Fury and anyone else that stood in HYDRA's way.<br/>Brock develops a relationship with the Winter Soldier, who eventually finds out what Pierce is doing to Brock. Infuriated, he takes out the corrupt head of SHIELD/HYDRA so that he will never hurt Brock again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did You Forget Love Was Dangerous?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this ](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/20598.html?thread=50284406#t50284406) prompt

“Agent Rumlow”, Agent Malick said after the debriefing about the Malta mission had concluded. “Please stay for a moment.”

Brock lingered while his teammates left the room. He wished he could join them. Malta had been rough, they had been in over their head and as a result, Mark, their team leader was dead. It had only been his fifth mission since he had left the academy and already he wondered if he should’ve joined communications. A lot more boring, sure, but also less gun shots and rashes from jellyfish stings.

“Is something wrong, sir?” Brock asked, scratching his arm.

“Mr. Pierce wants to see you.”

He stopped scratching. Alexander Pierce was the Ministry of Defence’s liaison with Shield and a living legend on top of that. “Can I ask why, sir?”

Malick’s cold dark eyes bore into him. “Apparently you impressed him, Agent Rumlow.” It didn’t sound like he shared that sentiment. Brock felt himself bristle at his tone. He had done a good job, he had gotten his team out of there and dealt a serious blow to the Mediterranean human trafficking scene.

The door opened again and another man came in with red hair and piercing blue eyes about the same age as Director Fury. “Alexander Pierce”, he introduced himself.

“Brock Rumlow”, he said and shook the offered hand. Something about Alexander Pierce unsettled him but he couldn’t have said what it was. Probably those eyes. He had seen warmer glaciers.

“I heard a lot of good things about you, Agent Rumlow”, Pierce said. “Most people don’t get a reputation after only four missions. And now I hear you led your team out of a complicated situation after your leader was killed in action.”

“I was just doing my job.” He was aware that Malick watched his every move and Pierce seemed to asses him as well and he wanted nothing more than be done with this.

“Walk with me to my office”, Pierce said. “I would like to hear more about Malta.” When he saw Brock hesitate, he added, “I assure you I have the necessary clearance.”

Still he waited until they were in Pierce’s office until he summarised the mission for him. Where Malick had belittled every decision Brock had made, Pierce asked for his reasons and listened carefully to his answers.

“Impressive”, Pierce said when Brock had finished. 

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’ve been recommended to me before this mission and now I see that they haven’t exaggerated. I’m always interested in supporting promising young agents. There is a party at my house tonight. I’d like if you could join us. Maybe there are a few more senior agents you can impress.”

“I...thank you, sir”, Brock felt incredibly flattered. After the harshness of Malick’s criticism, Pierce’s approval felt like a balm. “I’m very grateful for your invitation.”

/

“Please, Agent Rumlow, have a seat”, the counsellor said. Brock already had doubts about coming here. Maybe he should’ve gone straight to the police but then he didn’t think they’d take his claims seriously. And at the academy they had always emphasised the importance of the counselling system at Shield. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I was invited to a party hosted by Alexander Pierce last night”, Brock started. He felt nervous. Should he have mentioned the name? “He gave me a drink and I don’t remember anything after that until the next morning. And”, he hesitated again. Shield’s policy demanded being open about one’s sexual orientation among other things to decrease the possibility of blackmail but admitting to being assaulted was something else. “I’m certain someone had sex with me but I don’t remember that either.”

“So you think Alexander Pierce drugged you and raped you”, the counsellor said.

“Maybe not him but someone at the party. I can’t think of any other explanation.”

The counsellor scribbled a few notes, then he looked up and said, “If you want to leave Shield, Agent Rumlow, all you have to do is fill out a form. No need to tell lies.”

“It’s not a lie, I – “

“Always thought sissies like you were basically women but now you have to employ the same tactics? Crying rape just because you have morning after regret? You’re disgusting.” The counsellor said. “I’m willing to forget this conversation because you are new.”

“I – “

“But if you pursue your unfounded accusations for whatever reason I will state my assessment of your lies in front of a hearing committee if necessary. Now get out.”

Outside the girl at the reception gave him a friendly smile but he couldn’t bring himself to return it. He had been so stupid. Of course no one would believe him. Even if he hadn’t been a rookie, Alexander Pierce was a living legend. And maybe he had overreacted. There could be a number of explanations for last night.

/

Alexander Pierce wasn’t a physically intimidating man and if he had been anyone else Brock would’ve been sure he could take them, but one look from his cold blue eyes made him freeze in place. Behind this mask of civility and charm Pierce was a dangerous man and Brock had never been so scared in his life. “Sir?” he managed to say.

Pierce backhanded him so hard that he stumbled backwards, tripped over a chair and crashed to the ground. As he wanted to get up he could feel Pierce’s shoe pressing against his throat. “Stay down, Agent Rumlow.”

He lay perfectly still. The pressure against his throat increased, making it difficult to breathe.

“Did you think I would not find out?” Pierce asked. “You have two choices: you can learn to be obedient and continue on your path to be one of the best agents this organisation has ever seen or you die. I know a scientist who is very talented when it comes to vivisections.”

“Please, I don’t want this”, Brock managed to get out.

Pierce shrugged. “Shame.” And then louder, he said, “You can come in.”

Three men came into the room, fellow agents going by their uniforms. The moment Pierce took his foot from Brock’s throat, Brock scrambled to his feet but before he could even think about fight back, one of the men kneed him in the stomach. As he doubled over the man crashed his elbow into Brock’s back with full force. He fell to his knees and got kicked in the head so hard he hit the side of his bed. Someone grabbed his arms and pulled them onto his back and put shackles around his wrists and a separate set around his ankles. The room blurred and swam before his eyes. Vaguely he was aware that Pierce stood in front of him. Whoever was behind him grabbed his hair and forced his head up so that he could look at Pierce’s face.

“You’re a very promising asset, Agent Rumlow so I am asking you one more time. What is your choice: Obedience or death?”

This was a nightmare. He was still asleep and he would wake up any moment. This couldn’t be real.”Please”, he slurred.

The hand in his hair tightened painfully. He was feeling tired and disorientated.

“Obedience or death, Agent Rumlow. This is your last chance.”

“Obedience.” He saw Pierce gesture to the two agents and felt how he was pulled up. But it still didn’t feel real. He was going to wake up soon. They pushed him onto the desk face first and held him down by his shoulders. Someone opened his belt and pulled down his pants.

“If you scream, you’ll be dead as well”, he heard Pierce tell him before he pushed into him.

This had to have happened at the party, he thought briefly and wished he was unconscious now too. It hurt. It hurt so damn much. The pain kept him awake and he clenched his teeth to keep himself from making a noise.

“You chose this, Agent Rumlow”, Pierce said as he fucked him roughly. “This was your choice, remember that.”

Brock kept his eyes and his mouth firmly closed and hoped it’d be over soon.

It wasn’t.

/

He woke up in the infirmary. The lights were dimmed and the curtains drawn. It was quiet save for the hum of the monitors. For a moment he thought that everything had been a nightmare but soon enough his body told him that no, it hadn’t been. 

A nurse came in. “Good morning, Agent Rumlow. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit. What happened?”

One of your teammates found you unconscious in the shower. You must have slipped and hit your head.” It was a decent enough cover story, he had to give them that. “You have a concussion. It’s lucky they found you in time.”

“How long was I out?”

“A little more than day. That’s not unusual. Sleep is one of the best ways our body has to heal itself. Later today we’ll do a couple tests to see if there was any damage, just to be sure”, the nurse assured him quickly. “You also have a visitor. Do you want me to let him in?”

“Who is it?”

“The teammate who found you. His name is Scarlotti.”

“Let him in.” He was just relieved it wasn’t Pierce.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” Marcus Scarlotti was nearly always smiling and had a cruel sense of humour. “I’ve got good news.”

“Is it painkillers?” Brock asked. His head was killing him and he felt nauseous, either from the lack of food or the concussion, maybe both. He couldn’t tell.

Scarlotti rolled his eyes. “That was one little concussion. You’ll have to be able to fight through that if you want to make it anywhere. No the good news is that I’m the new leader of our team. And because you thankfully saw reason at the last minute you’ll be my second.”

Brock felt his blood run cold. “You know?”

“Of course I know”, Scarlotti grinned. “I was at the party too. Not too sure why Pierce thinks you’ll make a good plaything but then you can’t impress people with your skills when you’re unconscious.” When he saw Brock’s horrified face his grin got even broader. “Don’t look so shocked. I recommended you even before Malta. You’re a good agent for Shield, you’ll be a good agent for us.”

“You can’t force me.”

“Of course we can’t”, Scarlotti replied, grin still firmly in place. “You always have the choice to die. Have you read the files on Dr. Reinhardt? Guy’s sick even for a Nazi.”

“I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this”, Brock said desperately.

Scarlotti playfully nudged him in the ribs. “It’s not that bad. You’ll see. Hydra means more money, more mission, better chances at promotion...can’t say what it’s like to be Pierce’s plaything but he’s attractive enough I suppose so what’s your problem?”

“He drugged and raped me.”

Scarlotti shrugged. “Can’t blame him. You have to try the merchandise before buying. Also aren’t homos like you aching for it all the time anyway?”

“Fuck you.”

“I guess that’s a yes but I’m not into guys, so no.“ Scarlotti hit him in the shoulder. “Stop being such a wimp about this one incident. You’ll see once you stop whining and accept your place you’ll lead your own team in no time.”

“Don’t have much choice, do I?” He was pretty sure the nausea he felt now didn’t come from the concussion.

“Not really, no”, Scarlotti still smiled as if all of this was something good, desirable even. Brock wondered if Fury knew what was going on. He probably did. He and Pierce were friends after all. There wasn’t much Fury didn’t know.

/

Hydra had its own philosophy. Cut of one head and two more will grow was only part of it. What Pierce seemed to believe in more was that order only came from pain. Only if the fear of punishment in case of failure overwhelmed everything else a person was able to go beyond their limits.

Shield had taught him to resist interrogation by torturing him in quite a few ways. But Hydra took it so far beyond what Shield had done that his training seemed laughable. Quite often Pierce was present at those sessions. Brock had experienced early on that the man was a sadist who enjoyed inflicting pain and got off on it. Sometimes, when it was just the two of them, he’d sate his lust right then and there.

“I own you, Rumlow”, Pierce said as he fucked him over a bench Rumlow was chained to face down. He supported himself with one hand on Brock’s back while the other held a stun baton. “The sooner you accept this, the easier it will be for you.”

“Fuck you”, Brock said and tried not to scream when the stun baton hit his side.

“Obedience is another kind of freedom.”

Brock snorted derisively which earned him another blow. “You’ll learn, Rumlow. You’ll learn or you’ll die.”

/

“During your next mission I want you to kill Agent Hayes”, Pierce said.

“Why?” Tim Hayes was a cheerful ginger analyst who was qualified for field work but usually didn’t go because he was a single dad of two daughters since his wife worked on a oil platform out in the north sea.

“That’s none of your business. I want him dead and you’re going to do it. Make it look like an accident.”

Brock kept thinking about it the entire time they were preparing for the mission. It was meant to be simple, in and out without anyone noticing them. All Hayes had to do was look at the data on a computer which they couldn’t copy without alerting its owner.

He had a feeling Scarlotti knew about the order Pierce had given him and was supposed to keep an eye on him.

“You’re nervous?” Scarlotti asked Hayed when the Quinjet took off. 

“I’m always nervous”, Hayes admitted cheerfully. “But Agent May assured me that we’ll be back by dinner.”

“And Agent Rumlow will keep an eye on you”, Scarlotti said with a broad smile and looked at Brock.

Hayes smiled at him too. “Oh yes, congratulations about Malta by the way. Heard that without you none of your team would’ve made it out.”

“I was just doing my job”, Brock replied automatically.

“How’s your family?” Scarlotti asked.

“They’re great. Emily just sent a postcard from Aberdeen. Four more weeks and then she’s coming home for the rest of the year.” Hayes pulled out his phone and showed Brock a picture of his two daughters. “Valerie has gotten a role in her school’s nativity play. I’m not sure what version though because she’s playing the first lobster.” He laughed and swiped to the next picture. “And Jessica’s gotten a model plane for her birthday. The living room looks like a battle field but she’s determined to put it together herself.”

“You must be very proud”, Brock said and looked from the phone to Hayes. Why would Pierce want this man dead? Did he know something? Or was it simply a test of loyalty for him? Either way he couldn’t do this. There was no way he could kill this man. Fuck Pierce and fuck Hydra.

/

His whole body hurt. Electrocution seemed to be Pierce’s favourite method of torture by far. Of course Hydra was limited when it came to their own agents. Permanently maiming someone just wasn’t efficient. Of course accidents happened to those who just couldn’t learn to follow orders. This time though they hadn’t let him get away this easily. He had disobeyed a direct order. Instead they had locked him into a hyperbaric chamber and reduced the oxygen until he had nearly blacked out. But the oxygen levels were restored to normal before that happened only to lower them again. They had left him in here for three days or so he was told later. It had felt a lot longer.

It was Pierce who opened the chamber. He looked down at Brock with his cold blue eyes and seemed satisfied with what he saw. He ran a finger down Brock’s chest. The gesture was so unexpected it would’ve made him flinch if he could move his head.

“I assume you have learned your lesson.”

“Yes”, Brock whispered. His throat felt dry and raw and he was fighting against sleep now that it seemed his ordeal was over.

“Silence? Maybe another day then.”

“Yes.” He said as loudly as he could. It felt as if he was speaking through a throat full of broken glass.

Pierce smiled. “Report to my office tomorrow at eight. I expect you to have recovered by then.”

“Why me?”

“Because I wanted you. And I always get what I want.”

/

Brock already knew what Pierce was going to ask of him. Maybe he could warn Tim, maybe there was someone who would believe him and maybe he could shoot himself in the head because that’d be faster and kinder than anything Pierce had in store for him if he disobeyed him again.

“Agent Rumlow, sir”, he said as he knocked on the door of Pierce’s office.

“Come in”, he heard Pierce say and entered.

This was where it had all begun. No that wasn’t true. It had begun on Malta. Why, just why had Mark had to die there? If it had been him if would’ve been better for everyone, especially him.

“Good morning Agent Rumlow”, Pierce said as if he hadn’t supervised Brock’s torture for the last three days.

“Good morning, sir”, Brock replied.

“How was your weekend?”

“Instructive, sir.”

“Then I assumed you learned your lesson?” To anyone else it would’ve sounded like a perfectly normal conversation. There wasn’t so much as a hint of a threat in Pierce’s voice. The man had so much power and was so certain of it that he didn’t need threats.

“Yes, sir.”

“Your next mission will be in two days. You know your orders.”

Brock swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” For a moment Pierce looked him directly in the eyes and Brock felt a shiver run down his spine. It was as if he was looking the devil in the face.

“And gouge his eyes out”, Pierce added as an afterthought having already turned back to the files on his desk.

“What?” Brock asked and when Pierce gave him a sharp look, he added, “Of course, sir.”

/

Brock heaved until nothing came from his mouth but bile. His teammates had put Tim’s corpse on one of the benches and had wrapped it into an emergency blanket. Gouged out eyes weren’t a pretty sight.

“You’re okay, Rumlow?” JJ asked. 

“Does he look okay?” Rodriguez asked. “Give him time. He found Tim after all.”

Did he know? Brock wondered. He knew Scarlotti knew, but who else was involved? Did JJ know? It was her first mission as a field agent but maybe she had been recruited during her academy days. Had Tim been Hydra as well?

“Pull yourself together”, Scarlotti ordered. “We need to leave.”

Brock looked at him as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Scarlotti was smiling, of course he was. And Brock felt the urge to punch him in the face until he stopped. 

“Fuck you.”

“What’s done it done”, Scarlotti said. “You can’t undo it.”

Brock hadn’t thought of himself as a coward before but he was. When it had come to it he had chosen his own life over Tim’s. He should’ve put a bullet into his own head the moment when Pierce had ordered him to kill Tim the first time around. Now it was too late. He had made his choice.

“Here”, JJ held out a bottle of water for him. “You couldn’t have known they would do something like this.”

“Exactly”. Scarlotti said. “And they’re all dead. At least you can tell Tim’s family that much.”

Brock took the bottle from her. Again he felt the urge to pour the water over his hands and scrub until they were raw. He thought he could still feel Tim’s eyes under his fingernails. “Let’s go.”

The others gave him space during the flight back home except for Scarlotti who sat opposite him right next to Tim’s corpse and every time brock glanced up he was grinning.

Brock had never felt the urge to kill someone as much as he did now.

/

He got his first tattoo on the day of Tim’s funeral. Everyone had assured him that there was nothing he could’ve done, that there had been no way of knowing one of the drug dealers would return and kill Tim this brutally. And every time Brock had looked them in the face and wondered if they knew the truth. If they were Hydra as well. He couldn’t trust any of them. One wrong remark to the wrong person and Pierce would put him in the chamber again or worse. There was no point in refusing Pierce’s orders anymore. He had already murdered an innocent man to save his own pathetic, cowardly skin and Tim’s widow had fucking thanked him for taking out her husband’s killers.

The tattoo was a beast, a hellhound across the entirety of his back. A monster that killed at the devil’s behest. He had found it fitting. This was after all who he was now. He was the devil’s own. And he stood well not to forget it.

He collected more over the years. Each time Pierce pushed him past boundaries he didn’t think he had anymore he got another one. The skull on his right biceps appeared after he assassinated a journalist who knew too much. The words “Morituri te salutant” were written underneath his collar bones the last time he ever disobeyed orders again. He had been hospitalized for two weeks afterwards. The chain around his wrist was the result of the first ‘party’ where he was a conscious participant. Malick especially liked to humiliate him and there was nothing Brock could say or do to stop him. The only choice he had left was death and he was too much of a coward to take it.

/

When Pierce said, “Follow me, Agent Rumlow” and led him down into a vault that looked like it had been converted from a bank into a lab he felt a slight anxiety for the first time in years.

“Do I have a new mission, sir?” He asked while they walked through a number of doors that were heavily fortified and guarded. Each was unlocked in front of them and immediately locked again after they had passed through.

“More than just a mission, Agent Rumlow. Despite the difficulties you had to adjust at the start you’ve proven yourself as a capable leader these past years.” They stopped in a room that looked like a storage facility. It reminded Brock of the prison for ‘gifted’ people on Shield’s index. There was a single box in the room that looked like a cross between a sarcophagus and a freezer. Behind the frosted glass he could make out the face of a young man.

“Who is he?”

“That is the Winter Soldier.”

Brock let out a disbelieving laugh. “The Winter Soldier is a myth. Do you have the headless horseman stashed away here too?”

Over time Pierce had become more lenient about Brock’s humour, as long as he wasn’t the subject of it. “The Winter Soldier is one of Hydra’s most valuable assets. And he’ll be your responsibility from now on.”

“Mine?”

“Yes. You’ll be his handler during missions. Of course this means that any and all punishment for failures will be inflicted on both of you, regardless whose fault it was.”

/

“Hi”, Brock said as he watched the Winter Soldier looked around in the room as if he was seeing it for the first time. “I’m Brock Rumlow. I’m your new handler.”

The Winter Soldier looked at him. He had blue eyes as well but they couldn’t have been more different from pierce’s. Despite his name there was nothing cold about this man, nothing icy. He reminded Brock more of a lost puppy than of a ruthless assassin with more than two dozen kills to his name. He reminded him a little of Tim who had had the exact same shade of blue eyes as well.

“We have a mission up north”, Brock said. “They didn’t give me much of a debrief about you and how you usually do your missions. So you’ll probably give me as much orders as I’ll give you.”

The Winter Soldier looked confused. “I don’t give orders to my superiors.”

Brock laughed. “I’m not your superior, not really. See it as feedback if you want, so we’ll do better next time.”

The Winter Soldier nodded slowly as if that made sense.

“By the way, is it okay if I call you Winter for short?” Brock asked. The Winter Soldier was nothing like he had expected him to be. He was supposed to believe that a guy who didn’t look older than 30 was responsible for assassinations reaching back to the late forties? But then brock had just watched him being thawed out like a fucking ready meal. Maybe he was one of those ‘gifted’ Shield kept tabs on and had been unlucky enough to fall into Hydra’s clutches. Welcome to the club, kid, Brock thought. We should get t-shirts.

Winter gave him a tiny nod as if it had taken him a while to realize that Brock’s question hadn’t been rhetorical.

“We’re supposed to take out a safe house and make it look like someone else did it. Do you need help getting ready or can you do it on your own?”

“I’ll do it”, Winter’s voice sounded firmer this time as if he had stepped from unknown into familiar territory.

“Okay. I’ll meet you in the garage in an hour. Is that enough?”

This time the nod Winter gave him was decisive.

“Let’s go then.”

/

Winter’s human arm kept him upright as they were stumbling through the knee high snow. Once more his injured leg gave out under him and he would have fallen if not for Winter’s strong grip on him. Blood was running down his left arm which was completely useless thanks to the bullet in his shoulder.

Winter’s trousers were soaked with blood, some of it his own and some that of the soldiers he had killed. His right arm was useless as well. They had been ambushed just when they had secured the safe house and their attackers had been well prepared and taken the electronics in his arm out with a small scale EMP. 

More snow was falling thickly, making it impossible to look further than a couple meters but it would hopefully help to cover their tracks from their assailants. He and Brock had killed most of the group that had ambushed them but there was no telling if they were following them into the snowstorm or if they’d let nature take its pound of flesh. If they didn’t find shelter soon then it wouldn’t matter that they had escaped.

“You should leave me here”, Brock said. “You’ll be quicker without me.”

“No”, Winter replied.

“Saving me isn’t part of your mission directive.”

“I don’t care.”

Brock couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows. Suddenly there was nothing left of the meek, puppy eyed creature that had crawled out of the coffin as Brock had dubbed the contraption in his head. This man, determined, competent and decisive was how he had imagined the Winter Soldier to be.

“Pierce doesn’t like it when I don’t bring my handlers back”, Winter replied and there was a hint of fear in his voice. So Pierce had gotten to him to, Brock should’ve known.

“We’re stranded in the middle of nowhere. Our only means to communicate or escape are behind us. And while you may be resistant against the cold I’ll be frozen to death before we make it somewhere we can take shelter.”

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. He had heard once that freezing was supposed to be one of the better ways to die. It was supposed to be like falling asleep and never waking up again.

“There is a tracker in my arm. It was deactivated with the rest. Pierce will send people to check on us at our last known location soon enough”, Winter told him.

“So we just have to hold on?” He didn’t know if he was glad about it or not. Despite everything he still didn’t want to die. Just maybe stop living for a while. 

“Yes.”

“Good work by the way”, Brock said.

“You, too.”

“Thanks.”

/

After the mission debrief Brock and Winter were marched back into the vault lab but a different part of it this time. Instead of the coffin there was a chair like contraption that made Brock uncomfortable just by looking at it. Next to him Winter shifted, dropping his shoulders and hunching his back as if he tried to make himself smaller.

One of the guards grabbed Winter’s arm and pushed him down on the chair.

“You know the procedure”, he said.

Brock watched as Winter took his waistcoat off, followed by his shirt. His breathing started to become faster , his chest rising and falling more and more rapidly. He was having a panic attack, Brock realized as he saw how Winter’s human hand started shaking.

Restraints were being placed around Winter’s arms and body.

“What are you doing to him?” Brock asked the closest technician.

The upper part of the chair contraption was pulled down and fastened around Winter’s head and face.

And then he started screaming. 

“The mission wasn’t a failure!” Brock nearly yelled. “There’s no need to torture him.”

“Agent Rumlow, this is standard post-mission procedure for the Winter Soldier, not punishment. His memories are wiped and then he is put back on ice”, the technician next to him explained calmly.

This went against everything Hydra had taught him. Pain was meant for order. It was meant to keep them in line but not this. This wasn’t order. This was torture. Winter hadn’t done anything to deserve this, Brock though as he watched helplessly.

“Is something the matter agent Rumlow?” Pierce had suddenly appeared as well. He barely glanced at Winter whose screams were nearly inhuman by now.

“Of course not, sir”, Brock replied immediately.

“I’ve read your report”, Pierce said. “It does seem like you do your best work under pressure, Agent Rumlow. Despite the mishap at the end. Just a word of warning. The Winter Soldier is a weapon, nothing more and you’ll do well to remember that.”

“Of course, sir”, Brock said but when he caught another glance at the Winter Soldier he already knew it was an order he would not follow.

/

“Good God, Rumlow, what happened to you?” JJ asked when he entered the Quinjet. The rest of the team followed her example and gave him concerned looks.

“Medical cleared you for a mission looking like this?” Rodriguez added.

“Guys, I’m fine, really”, Brock said. Yesterday had been Malick’s birthday and he had asked Pierce to borrow Brock for a night as his present. Pierce’s only rule had been that Brock had to be able to walk the next morning.

He wanted to walk to his seat but Jack stood in his way. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I told you I was taking on a classified mission.” He forced himself to meet Jack’s eyes. “I can’t talk about it.”

“You can’t go on this mission either”, Jack told him. They had gotten on from the moment they had met and Brock had recommended Jack to be introduced to Hydra. He was the closest friend Brock had ever had and yet he couldn’t bring himself to tell him about Pierce. He was too scared that Jack’s reaction would be the same as Scarlotti’s and the counsellor’s.

“That’s not your decision. I’ve got clearance from medical.”

“Really?” Jack raised his eyebrows. “Because you don’t look like you’ve even been to medical.”

“I’m fine.” He looked Jack in the eyes, wordlessly pleading to let it go. He couldn’t afford to sit out this mission. Pierce would see it as a weakness and he tolerated that even less than disobedience.

Jack sighed. “If you die I’m writing ‘I told you so’ on your gravestone.”

“If I die, you can do whatever you want”, Brock promised him.

/

Brock wished he could go have called in sick this morning but he knew Pierce wouldn’t have allowed it even though it was his fault Brock felt like crap. Pierce had held one of his very private, very exclusive parties last night and had made Brock attend as a party favour as so often. He had rug burn on his knees, his jaw felt sore, his neck was stiff and it hurt to swallow especially thanks to the prime minister of Belgium who had forced his cock down Brock’s throat. At least only two had fucked him; Pierce before the party had even started to state his claim and Malick towards the end of it. Thanks to their mutual dislike since the beginning Malick would’ve never passed up an opportunity to humiliate Brock and show him exactly what he thought of him.

“You’re very pretty”, he heard someone say. “It’s a shame to hide such a pretty face behind a muzzle.” It came from the room he had just passed.

“I need to report to my handler.” Brock would’ve recognised that voice everywhere. It belonged to the man he was looking for since they had been given a new mission.

“Sure you can spare a moment or so.”

Brock opened the door and saw that one of the guards assigned to the Winter Soldier had Winter cornered against a wall and was touching him. Winter stood completely still and stared into nothingness with dead eyes. He was conditioned not to strike out on his own or question orders even if his programming sometimes seemed faulty.

Brock yanked the guard backwards and hit him in the face with his fist. The man screamed and slumped to the floor, blood running down from his probably broken nose.

“What the fuck, Rumlow?” He snarled.

“The Winter Soldier is a valuable asset to Hydra. You don’t get to treat him like this.”

“Oh yeah?” The guard was easily a half a foot taller than Brock but Brock wasn’t the leader of both Shield’s and Hydra’s best assault team for nothing.

“Maybe you’d rather have this conversation with Mr. Pierce”, Brock added and watched the guy pale. “You got it?”

The guard muttered something about too much trouble and fled the room. Brock turned to Winter who was still standing with his back against the wall from where he had watched the whole scene.

“Listen to me: no one has the right to ask that of you, understood? No one.” Winter looked scared and confused so Brock lowered his voice. “You’re on my team now. I’ll protect you.” He thought about Pierce and felt sick for a moment. But Winter never disobeyed orders and disobedience was something Pierce liked if only to use it as an excuse for punishment. He wouldn’t have touched Winter. “You got that?”

Winter looked at him and nodded slowly.

“Good. Now come on, we’ve got a new mission.”

/

 

“Hey Brock, you’re coming for drinks after?” JJ asked.

He wished he could but Pierce had already ordered him to come to his house. “Sorry, I got work to do.”

“Another one of your ‘classified missions’?” She asked, using finger quotes.

“I’m not allowed to tell you that”, he replied.

“I suspect they’re not missions at all but dates”, Cho grinned. “Secret dates.”

“Brock and dates?” Jack asked. “Hell will freeze over before that happens.”

“That’s why they’re secret”, Cho said. “Maybe he’s the lover of some rich powerful married man who can’t make it public.”

“Stop reading Rodriguez’ romance novels”, Brock replied. He hadn’t been on a date since his days at the academy. Partly out of fear what Pierce would do in retaliation for his infidelity and partially because thanks to Pierce, physical intimacy had become impossible for him to endure.

“Yes please”, Rodriguez said. “Or at least stop spilling coffee on them.”

/

Pierce took his chin between his fingers and forced Brock to look him in the eyes. “I want a bit more enthusiasm next time or there’ll be consequences.”

“Yes, sir.” Brock had been here before. He’d rather avoid any and all punishments from Pierce if he possibly could.

Winter of all people was sitting at the dinner table. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Brock, roaming over the bruises on his face, the limp in his steps. Pierce seemingly unconcerned walked to the fridge. “Would you like something to drink?” He asked Winter as if he was just another guest.

Winter was still staring at Brock and didn’t respond.

“Is there anything else, sir?” Brock asked. The idea of leaving Winter alone with Pierce made his skin crawl. But Pierce wasn’t interested in Winter, he tried to remind himself. But why else would Pierce order him to his home instead of giving him his new orders at the lab? Pierce had to have said something and when he didn’t react, Pierce backhanded him hard enough to let him crash against the bar. A few glasses shattered and the shards sliced his palms open. He would need to think of an excuse to tell his team tomorrow.

“Clear up this mess, Agent Rumlow, and then you can go”, Pierce told him before turning to Winter. “I have a new mission for you.” He continued but Brock could see that Winter wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes kept darting to Rumlow who was patching his hands up as well as he could.

“I’ve changed my mind”, suddenly Pierce was standing next to him. “Strip.”

“Sir?”

“Now.” The cold fury in Pierce’s voice made Brock hastily remove his shirt. “And you”, Pierce looked at Winter. “You’ll stay right there and watch.”

Dread pooled in Brock’s stomach. This was exactly the kind of thing he had wanted to protect Winter from. He hoped that Pierce would leave it at making Winter watch. The glass on the floor cut into his bare feet as he took off his shoes and let his trousers and boxers fall to the floor.

“On your knees.” Pierce sat down in a chair across from Winter. “Come here.”

Brock wanted to rise to his feet again but Pierce’s voice interrupted him. “Did I tell you to stand?”

It wasn’t the first time Pierce had made him crawl, wasn’t even the worst humiliation he had ever put him through, but that Winter was watching made it so much worse. He could feel his face burn with shame.

As he reached him, Pierce gripped his hair painfully tight and forced his head back until Brock could look him in the eye. “Do you remember what I said earlier about enthusiasm?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Pierce let go of him. This wasn’t anything new, wasn’t even the first time Pierce had someone else in the room to watch or even participate. While he sucked Pierce off he could hear him giving details about his new mission to Winter. Something about taking Fury out now that Steve had gotten him to doubt Project Insight.

He had never had any hopes about Pierce only wanting a blowjob and wasn’t surprised when he was ordered to stop. When he looked up Winter’s eyes were on him and his fingers were twitching near the gun on the table.

Brock shook his head almost imperceptibly.

“Get over to the bar and bend over”, Pierce ordered. This time he let him walk there.

Brock had no choice but to brace his forearms against the glass strewn surface of the bar. He was still loose and slick from where Pierce had fucked him barely fifteen minutes ago. He knew it was all he was going to get as preparation this time around.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice your protectiveness?” Pierce asked as he gripped Brock’s hips and pushed inside. “I have no use for agents who are not loyal.” His thrusts were hard but slow. This wouldn’t be over quickly. “I would’ve thought you had learned that particular lesson by now.”

Once more Pierce gripped his hair and forced his head down until his face was pressed against the glass shards. “This man cannot protect you”, he heard Pierce say. “I own him. He will do whatever I want him to do. Do you understand that?”

“Yes.” Winter’s voice floated through the room, soft and detached.

“As for you”, Pierce pressed his face even harder against the shards. “I will think of an appropriate punishment after Insight has been implemented.” He sped up his thrusts until he gripped Brock’s hips hard enough to leave fresh bruises. “Clean up, then you can go. And be quiet”, Pierce said as he pulled out. Brock could feel his come trickle down his legs. He hated the feeling but there was nothing he could do about it until he got home.

Three gunshots were fired before Pierce could react. He was thrown backwards against the fridge and was dead before he hit the ground. Winter stood next to the table the gun in his metal hand while the human one was balled to a fist.

“What the fuck did you do?” Brock yelled at him.

“He was hurting you.”

“That’s not a reason to kill him. He was already done. It was over.”

“You told me no one was allowed to touch me like that if I didn’t want them to. You didn’t want him to touch you. I could see that.”

Brock couldn’t help but start laughing. He was all too aware of the hysterical edge but here he was, finally free of Alexander Pierce and all because he had protected a brainwashed assassin once. Surreal didn’t even begin to cover it.

/

He didn’t know how long it took until his hysteria died down. But it did, if only slowly. Winter simply watched him the entire time as if he was waiting for orders. Maybe killing Pierce had taken every bit of initiative he had had.

“Fuck.” Slowly the reality of what Winter had done dawned on him. Pierce hadn’t just been the Secretary of Defence, he had been the head of Hydra. “We’re dead.”

Winter looked him in the eyes. “You’ll think of something. You always do.”

“Wish I had as much faith in me as you do”, Brock replied. Unfortunately the adrenaline had worn off together with the hysteria. He was starting to feel his injuries as if every single cut and bruise demanded attention right now and he was fucking tired. Brock took out his phone and dialed a number.

“Who are you calling?” Winter wanted to know. He seemed strangely focused as if this was just a mission that had gone shit.

“Jack.”

Winter’s grip on his arm tightened. “Can you trust him?”

“If I can’t, I may as well put a bullet in my head”, Brock replied. His answer seemed to be enough for Winter who let go of him.

/

Jack didn’t ask too many questions over the phone. And even when he arrived and Winter let him in, he didn’t say anything until he had made it to the living room area. His eyes darted from Winter to Brock to Pierce’s corpse on the floor. “What the fuck did you do?”

Brock moved to explain, but Winter cut in. “Pierce forced himself on Brock so I killed him.”

“Is that true?” Jack asked Brock. His voice was perfectly neutral, not a hint of disgust or disbelief there.

Brock nodded slowly, unable to meet Jack’s eyes.

“And Pierce has been doing it for a while, hasn’t he?”

“Since Malta.” It had been Brock’s fifth mission for Shield and its success had put him on the radar for a promotion. He and Jack hadn’t known each other yet.

“And yet somehow this never came up between us in the past twelve years.” Brock took a quick look at Jack, who seemed livid.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because you would’ve done exactly the same as Winter did tonight.”

“Damn right I would have! And he would’ve fucking deserved it.” He took a look at Brock’s face, then down to his equally cut up arms and hands. Winter had helped him to clean and patch the wounds as well as he could but that wasn’t much. “Let me guess, these cuts were the result of a ‘secret mission’ that you ‘can’t talk about’.”

“Yes.”

“You stupid idiot”, Jack said fondly. “Here, take my car. Don’t make that face, Brock. I’ll see you soon.”

“Whatever it is you want to do, we can help you.”

Jack shook his head. “You look like you’re dead on your feet already. Trust me, Brock.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Says you”, Jack replied and rolled his eyes. “Get out of here”, Jack said. “Stay low. Get out of the country if you can. I’ll handle this.”

“Jack, I – “

“I’ll find you when it’s over”, Jack interrupted him. He looked at Winter. “Take care of him, kid.”

Winter nodded as if he had just accepted a new mission.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me [ here](http://smaragdbird.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


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